


From the Ashes (of the past)

by LiliaNox, MarvelousMenagerie (HiddenOne)



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Canon-Typical Violence, Identity Issues, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 08:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16677820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiliaNox/pseuds/LiliaNox, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenOne/pseuds/MarvelousMenagerie
Summary: Tony, prince and heir to the throne, is finally being called home after living the last twelve years in the neighboring kingdom. He isn't pleased, especially when his escort is none other than his father's favorite knight: Sir Steven Rogers.Only Sir Rogers isn't who he says he is, and Tony must flee for his life.Bucky is a former knight and now huntsman living on the edge of Baron Pierce's lands until Pierce has a mission for Bucky. Bucky must track down Sir Steven Rogers' killer, Prince Anthony Stark, and bring him back to Pierce for information - but for Bucky, the death of his childhood friend is very much personal.





	1. Tony

**Author's Note:**

> For the Winteriron Reverse Bang! This story was inspired by LiliaNox's beautiful artwork [here](https://www.deviantart.com/lilianox/art/Dragon-Arm-Bucky-Barnes-772601435) and can also be found in Ch4.
> 
> ... and yes, the reverse bang is supposed to be posted complete. So let's call this part one (completed), and part two will be added on here. Endless gratitude to Lilia as the artist with their constant patience (and fantastic ideas!) for their writer MarvelousMenagerie XD

“You’re late.”

Tony whirls around and tries for a charming smile as he meets Pepper’s glare. His plan, however, is ruined. He can’t pretend he’s been here for a candle’s length of time when she catches him sneaking in from the servant’s entrance.

“The benefits of this being _my_ party is that I can’t be late. Everyone else is only early,” Tony tries.

Pepper snorts, quietly enough that none of the other guests can hear her breach of etiquette. How she’s managed to stake out the entrance in stealth, laying in wait for Tony, while wearing that ballgown, Tony will never know. A deep midnight blue with delicate sparkling gold lines lacing from her hem all the way up to the puff of her sleeves, Pepper looks every bit the royal princess that she is. She should be drawing everyone’s gaze.

“You have grease on your cheeks,” she huffs.

Hopefully she’ll draw gazes away from him and his mess. Tony wipes a hand across his face and then scrubs the black transference onto his dark brown pants. The stain is noticeable only if one squints, Tony realizes as he tests out, and deems himself acceptable. He grins and offers his arm to Pepper. With Pepper at his side, no one is going to be squinting at Tony anyway, even if Tony himself is also royal.

“As ever, my dear Pepper, you save me from the height of impropriety,” Tony says.

Pepper sighs but concedes to take Tony’s arm, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips.

“I don’t think anyone is capable of that monumental task,” Pepper teases as they enter further into the ballroom. They’re starting to draw attention, guests tipping their heads in a light bow or doing a small curtsy as the princess of the kingdom walks in their midst.

They gain even more attention when James Rhodes the Third, the heir to the throne, joins them. Only Tony calls him Rhodey, just like Tony will never call Pepper her given name of ‘Virginia,’ their nicknames cemented twelve years ago when Tony first arrived in the Maenhaeten kingdom as a child.

“You’re late,” Rhodey directs at Tony with a frown.

“This is _my_ party,” Tony protests.

Rhodey is also resplendent in his dark blue and gold outfit, the colors of the kingdom going well with both Rhodey’s darker skin as well as his sister Pepper’s fair complexion. Next to them, Tony doesn’t look royal at all, as he’d ignored his servant’s help in dressing in order to simply throw on clothes and arrive on time. At least the clothes had been clean, mostly, until he’d wiped the grease from his cheek on them.

“Which means you should’ve been here at the beginning,” Rhodey hisses as he takes Tony’s elbow and guides him firmly towards the other side of the room.

“I think it means the party starts when I get here,” Tony replies back with wide, blinking eyes. Then Tony arranges his face into something more apologetic. “But look, Rhodey, I need to show you something. When this is done, stop by my workshop and -”

“Of course that’s where you were,” Rhodey sighs.

“He had grease on his face,” Pepper comments unhelpfully as she almost leads Tony with her arm tucked through his, rather than the other way around.

“Okay, okay, I know, but -” Tony starts.

“There will be time for that later,” Rhodey says. “We’ll have plenty of time, Tones.”

Tony grumbles, but he cuts himself off as he’s suddenly in front of the king and queen. King James Rhodes the Second has more similar features to his daughter Pepper, actually, with his fair skin and thin build. Rhodey takes after his mother, Queen Roberta, with her brown skin and warm eyes.

Both the king and queen focus on Tony now, as Pepper and Rhodey step back.

“Ah, finally, the guest of honor has arrived,” the queen says with amusement. “There is little point to having a farewell celebration for someone who has already left our midst, after all.”

Tony chuckles along with the circle of guests surrounding them.

“I merely wanted you to taste the quietness that will soon be my absence,” Tony replies as he does a low bow of respect for them both.

“My dearest Anthony, do not doubt that we will miss you,” the queen continues. She takes the king’s hand. “It is with sadness in both of our hearts that we are soon to bid you farewell, but we would be selfish to keep you when you are needed at home.”

Tony tampers his wry grin into something more polite. He hasn’t been _needed_ at home for twelve years. Letting Tony grow up in an ally kingdom isn’t completely unheard of - swapping heirs had gone a bit out of style, but not long enough for it to be too strange - only that neither Rhodey or Pepper had taken Tony’s place back at Brucklin. Tony had merely left, as ordered, and now returns, as ordered.

“But this is a night of celebration!” the king says, gesturing to the now-quiet crowd. “A celebration of a son returning home and of an apprentice getting closer to finally taking up his trade.”

The crowd laughs again, polite but sincere, and Tony musters a smile.

“Though never too soon,” the king continues. “We wish for health and long lives to our allies in the Starks. May the doors of our kingdoms always be open to each other.”

“I will strive to keep it so,” Tony promises, eyes shining. These have been his guardians, his parents, for longer than his own blood relations. If Tony had had a sibling, if there had been another heir, Tony is sure they would’ve tried to keep him. And Tony would’ve tried harder to stay.

Tony had stopped begging Maria, his biological mother, to let him return home to Brucklin after three years, when he was thirteen. Now Maenhaeten is more home to him than his place of birth, but duty calls.

“You missed the toast already, but we will continue to wish you a safe journey,” the queen says, eyes kind as she meets Tony’s gaze. “We send you off with our best wishes.”

With a gesture from the king, the music swells and the party restarts. Tony’s public audience with the king and queen is over. Tony performs a final, formal bow, and then steps back into the crowd. Later, there will be a private party with Tony and the royal family so that they can talk in privacy, but now it’s time for the public spectacle.

“This would’ve been a lot more pleasant if you’d showed up on time,” Pepper whispers as she leads Tony out into the dancers.

“Really? Do tell,” Tony says as steps into position across from Pepper.

Tony bows, and Pepper curtsies, and they begin the steps of the dance, leaning close enough to whisper under the music.

“I would’ve tried to help you then,” Pepper says with a pointed glance at the line of nobles at the edge of the dancing circle waiting for a partner.

Tony stifles his grimace. One of the reasons, of the many he has, for not looking forward to this event is that it represents the last chance to get Prince Anthony Stark’s, heir to the Stark throne, attention before he finally leaves for home. The list of people desiring his attention, either in dancing or conversation, will be long indeed unless he manages to sneak away early.

And Tony has the feeling that neither Pepper or Rhodey - or the servants and guards to answer to them - will let Tony do that.

“Now I shall just leave you to your fate,” Pepper continues with a wide grin.

“Pepper!” Tony protests.

“I’ll let Rhodey save you once, but that’s it. Enjoy _your party_ , now that it’s finally started since you’ve graced us with your presence,” Pepper says politely.

Then Pepper twirls an extra three steps, out of the alignment of the dance, and grabs hold of a new partner, one who catches her with a startled look.

“Pepper!” Tony hisses, but then another woman has already stepped up and taking her place.

“Prince Anthony,” the woman simpers.

Tony pastes a grin on his face and keeps dancing. It was going to be a long night.

 

The pounding in his head drags Tony from sleep. He groans and rolls over, feeling as if he’d only just fallen face first into his bed after the long night at the ball. The dancing, the flirting, the warding off of the touching. He didn’t even want his coffee yet, he just wanted to go back to sleep, but the pounding continued.

“Prince Anthony. Prince Anthony!”

Tony realizes that his head is pounding because someone is pounding on the door.

“What?” Tony whines, too softly to be heard from outside. The problem with having taught all the servants to not enter his chambers without permission is that it led to moments like this, where Tony has to crawl out of bed to answer his own door.

At least he’s alone, though Tony almost _almost_ wishes he’d gone to bed with a companion so he could make them open the door instead.

He certainly had had his pick of offers, but Tony had reduced those kinds of nightly activities once the news of his return had become public. Obie had said something about it in a letter, but mostly it had been King James the Second’s warning to have legitimate heirs _first_ before siring any other types of children, and any anti-pregnancy charm always risks being outdone by a stronger charm to encourage pregnancy, that had stuck with Tony. Especially now that he was being called home and the Brucklin throne was at the forefront of people’s minds, the risk didn’t seem worth the reward.  

He stumbles on his way to the door, but manages to make the journey without falling over. The pounding continues, and his head now throbs in tempo.

Tony throws open the door. “What?”” he barks.

His personal manservant, Happy, stands in front of Tony with an apologetic face. Tony sighs and glances out the window. The sun is only just rising, pinks peeking through over the horizon.

“What is it?” Tony asks, much more civil. Happy would not have woken him without due cause, unfortunately, which means today will probably be an especially long day.

“My apologies, prince. Your escort is here. They are waiting in the courtyard and are asking for your departure immediately.”

Tony stares at Happy for one moment, then another, then another. He can barely comprehend the string of words that Happy just said, and Tony prides himself on his quick wittedness. “Fetch me coffee immediately, please. I can’t possibly have heard you correctly. My escort is here, in the courtyard? The guards who will accompany me back to Brucklin?” Tony repeats slowly.

Happy nods, his body twitching back and away to fetch the coffee Tony had asked for, even as he stands and answers Tony’s questions.

“They aren’t expected for a fortnight,” Tony blurts out, rubbing his forehead.

Happy nods in agreement again.

“What are they doing here?” Tony asks, though he doesn’t expect Happy to have this answer.

“They wish you to leave immediately,” Happy answers anyway.

Tony snorts and crosses his arms. “Like hell I am.”

 

The candles that Happy sets up around the workshop are only just beginning to burn when Rhodey bursts through the door only half-dressed.

“Tones, you can’t take everything with you.”

“Watch me,” Tony growls as he stuffs more of his plans into a bag. He’d had a filing system, but the filing system only works when Happy doesn’t trip over a pile of hammers and knock over the bag of papers and spill them across the floor.

“Tony,” Rhodey repeats, even as he bends down and helps pick up the papers. “I’ll move my trip up and bring it to you in a wagon. You don’t have time to pack everything or even the strength to carry it with you. Think of Buttercup.”

Tony sighs. Buttercup, his horse, won’t appreciate carrying the entire contents of Tony’s workshop. Buttercup won’t appreciate carrying even a portion of Tony’s workshop. The original plan was to have a wagon, and even then Rhodey was going to follow with more of Tony’s stuff in a few weeks.

“This entire plan is ridiculous,” Tony mutters as he dumps his bag and starts re-prioritizing what he’ll take with him right now.

There’s so much he’s wanted to show Obie and even Howard when he gets home - showing off what Tony had been capable of designing and building without him, but most of that will have to wait for Rhodey.

“I know. But they’re worried about your safety, and obviously we can’t be seen holding you back if there are rumors of attacks. Better to get you home back fast and safe than to wait for all this.”

“ _This_ ,” Tony says as he sorts through his designs, “is why they should attack me. Brilliant plans. But no one knows about those, just that I’m the heir who is finally being dragged back after twelve years.”

“Yes, yes, they’re after you for the wrong reasons but you’ll still be dead,” Rhodey argues with a sigh.

Tony stuffs more of the designs that he’s still tweaking into his bag, so he’ll have something to stave off complete boredom on the trip. The bag is big enough, with the papers, and he’ll still have to carry his travel pack of clothes. With the urgency pushed by his escort, Tony is betting on the trip being fast and light. Still, Tony whirls around for one last thing.

“Tony,” Rhodey chastises.

“You should’ve skipped out of the party with me,” Tony says as he shoves his gloves into his bag. “You could’ve seen these in action.”

“You got them to work?” Rhodey questions, eyes lighting up.

Tony grins. “Beautifully.”

“You sure you need to take them with you? If you leave them here I could take a look then bring them…” Rhodey tempts.

“I’ll show them to you when you get to Brucklin. Come soon.”

Happy knocks on the door, bearing another steaming cup of coffee for Tony in one hand and then Tony’s travel pack in the other.

Tony sighs. “I guess it’s time.”

He was supposed to have had more time. He’s supposed to have had days more, to chat and linger and laugh over stories. He’s supposed to have had that private goodbye party, to be able to hand over the gifts he’s made for them with his own hands rather than leave them in the workshop for Rhodey to find later.

Tony wishes he could stay. He would rather stay, but he gulps down the coffee as he follows Happy down to the courtyard, Rhodey trailing behind him.

“Stay smart,” Rhodey orders, lips teasing into a smirk though his eyes stay serious. He’s worried, and Tony hates to be the cause but it’s not Tony’s fault.

Really, what are the odds of an assassination attempt on this trip home? Is there really that much unrest, when they’d never heard a whisper of it in Maenhaeten? Can the people hate him that much to want Tony dead when he hasn’t been there for twelve years?

“Always am,” Tony replies as he mounts his horse.

Soldiers in his father’s army sit astride their own mounts and watch. They’ve said little other than demanding the utmost urgency in Tony’s departure, handing over a letter from Howard commanding his son return immediately due to rumors of unrest.

Still, the most important member of the soldiers is not among them. It was _his_ name that had gotten Tony packing and Rhodey nagging because even Tony is curious to finally meet the famous knight.

Sir Steven Rogers, Howard’s - and the people’s - favorite hero.

Only Sir Rogers is not there with the rest of the soldiers. Sir Rogers is patrolling the forests, making sure that there’s no one laying in wait to attack Tony. Tony is not impressed by the thoroughness of Sir Rogers, though. Rather, Tony is offended on Rhodey and the rest of the royal family’s behalf that Sir Rogers so transparently snubs them by his absence and then offends by declaring that their forests are not protected.

Tony has been safe in Maenhaeten for twelve years and it’s not Maenhaeten’s danger that is threatening Tony now.

Still, Sir Rogers’ reputation precedes him. Tony wouldn’t have cared twice about whatever missive Howard signed, but now Tony’s curiosity is piqued. Why would Howard bother sending his favorite knight to retrieve the son he left in exile for so long?

Tony won’t admit to any curiosity on what Sir Rogers is actually like. Both Howard _and_ the people sing his praises, and Tony hadn’t met Sir Rogers before he left Brucklin twelve years ago. Then, Sir Rogers had only just been a newly minted knight but still Howard had an eye on him.

It had made Tony almost consider trying for knighthood, but fortunately he’d never told anyone that. Not even Rhodey knows of that dream.

Tony rides out of the courtyard, flanked on all sides with soldiers. He turns back to wave goodbye at Rhodey, but keeps his sadness buried in his chest. Tony doesn’t care about the big send off that he should’ve had as a fellow royal, only that Rhodey stands alone and Tony won’t get another glimpse of King James, Queen Roberta, or Pepper for… Tony doesn’t even know how long. At least Rhodey will come visit him soon.


	2. Tony

Sir Rogers is shorter than Tony expected.

It’s a delayed thought. It took Tony a few moments to look past the gleaming shield that Sir Rogers carries, the white star on the field of red and blue rings that features in so many of the songs that exalt the knight. But the shield is large for the man behind it, and when Tony realizes that Sir Rogers plans on continuing his act of standoffishness, Tony is happy that not everything about the songs turns out to be true.

Sir Rogers keeps his distance, giving only the barest of nods to Tony. He stays up front of the unit, leading them on a trail that at least for now seems to avoid using the main roads.

Worse is that Sir Rogers seems to have begun a trend with his silence.

Tony sighs. No one seems to have any interest in talking to their long-exiled prince, and if not even Sir Rogers is willing to talk to him than Tony will have to amuse himself. He’s glad he’s brought his plans to work on, at least.

The days are long and the nights even longer, with Tony existing in a bubble of silence away from the rest of the group.

Tony had been taught how to ride, and even how to hunt and fish and camp, but this journey is long and Tony’s ass is sore by the third day. Tony has only been out on one or two day excursions without stopping at a nobleman’s house or an inn, and he’d never had to spend this long in the saddle during the day.

Even Buttercup seems tired when Tony rubs her down at the end of the day. The two day long camping trips that Rhodey used to drag him out on are nothing compared to this.

If only Sir Rogers had listened to Tony about the river route being a faster way home than this forest way, but Sir Rogers hadn’t merely waved Tony away with a grunt. The attitude is exactly what Tony would’ve expected from his father’s favorite knight, but not from one who exalted by the people.

Well, Sir Rogers is shorter than Tony expected, and Tony continues to think uncharitable thoughts about the knight when Tony sits alone at his own fire.

Sir Rogers has a horrid accent, a small vocabulary, a lisp, or something else that spoils Sir Rogers’ perfect image if he talks too much and that’s why he remains silent. Maybe Sir Rogers has a gigantic scar across his face, and that’s why he doesn’t take off his helmet. Maybe Sir Rogers smells terrible and is afraid of bathing and that’s why he remains distant.

Or, Tony decides, Sir Rogers is merely a knave who only became a knight because he saved Howard’s life.

Tony has vague memories of Sir Rogers before Tony had been practically exiled. Rogers had seemed old then, to Tony, but thinking back on it, Rogers would’ve been younger than Tony is now - maybe eighteen, nineteen? And then - squire at the time - Rogers had received a commendation for saving the king’s life, for being the first to step in an stop an attack.

Tony had idolized him, the not-quite-knight who had been born into poverty but chosen to be sponsored into knighthood by aged Baron Erksine. Stories had already been flying around the castle about him, the brave and bold squire who let nothing stop his service to his kingdom. Tony hadn’t met him in person, hadn’t been allowed, but there were a few daydreams about blond, blue-eyed knights who’d needed the help of a prince on his adventures after that.

But soon after, Tony had been sent off to Maenhaeten, and now is the anticlimactic reunion with the hero of his childhood.

And Sir Rogers won’t even bother to take off his helmet in Tony’s presence, won’t speak to Tony, won’t even give Tony a glance.

Tony isn’t used to being ignored, not ever, and it sets his teeth on edge.

 

The next day is a long one. They cross into Brucklin in the morning, Tony guesses, but the time trickles by and what gray sky he can see through the tops of the trees offers no hints. They simply move on, one after the other, on his off-beaten track that gets smaller and smaller as the trees push in on all sides.

Certainly there were better roads to take, weren’t there, even if they wouldn’t take the river route? Ways to make this journey faster?

Not that Tony is excited to be ‘home.’

Home will, he thinks, still be Maenhaeten for a long time yet. He isn’t coming back home, he’s leaving home. Maybe that feeling will change, and he will get used to it - but a place without Rhodey, without Pepper, without King James and Queen Roberta and Happy - it will certainly not be the same.

When they stop for camp that night, Tony takes his time wiping Buttercup down. Others are getting fires started and dinner cooking, but no one has volunteered to handle Buttercup and Tony would have refused their offers anyway.

Sir Rogers has handed off the care of his horse to another soldier, and already sits by one of the fires as he delegates orders to the soldiers around him.

Tony sidles up to Sir Rogers before the knight can slip away.

“Any estimates on when we reach the end of this journey, or are we going to disguise our tracks and circle around Brucklin a few times before being done?” Tony asks as he takes a seat next to Sir Rogers.

Sir Rogers grunts and turns his head away from Tony.

“Nothing?” Tony presses, irritation rising. “Think I should get to know where you’re going, of anyone.”

Sir Rogers snorts again. “I’ll get you where you need to go.”

“I’m so relieved to hear that,” Tony replies, tone clipped. “I’d still like to know about _when_ we’ll arrive. No map of the route, sure, I can see the risk there, but a general trajectory maybe? Besides, I can’t imagine we’ll last that long on the rations you’ve got stored in your pack.”

Sir Rogers still doesn’t look at Tony. “Refuel in Aefgaen tomorrow or day after, then we’ll be good to go for as long as it takes to keep you safe,” he says.

The overly polite tone rankles Tony, but then Tony realizes where they are. “Aefgaen?” Tony presses, the word sticking in his throat. “No. I’m not - we can’t go there.”

Sir Rogers snorts. “You won’t have to get off your horse and step in the mud, my prince,” he says, slurring the honorific. “Don’t worry your head about it.”

Tony jerks up, tone loud and drawing the rest of the soldiers’ attention. “I’m not, I’m not going there.”

Chills run down Tony’s spine, and he folds his arms to prevent everyone from seeing his hands shaking. Aefgaen? He can’t go back to Aefgaen. He refuses to go back to Aefghan. He’ll desert his escort if he has to, and odds are he’ll find himself back in Maenhaeten rather than at his parent’s castle if he runs.

Sir Rogers leaps to his feet and glares at Tony. “You’ll go where I tell you.”

Sir Rogers’ brown eyes bore into Tony, and Tony’s breathe freezes in his throat.

Sir Steven Rogers does not have brown eyes. Even if Tony couldn’t trust his memories of a man he saw from a distance twelve years ago, there are enough songs about the man’s blonde hair and blue eyes that Tony refuses to believe they could be this far from the truth. Tony can’t see the man’s hair, tucked under the helm, but the brown eyes are unmistakable in the light of the fire.

This man is not Sir Steven Rogers.

“I will not go to Aefgaen,” Tony forces out, the words sticking in his throat.

Howard’s instructions for Tony to return had the Stark seal. This man has Sir Rogers’ emblem on the shield. The soldiers even have the proper Maenhaeten uniform. This should be the group that escorts Tony safely home, but something is wrong.

And, if they are near Aefgaen, the sooner Tony gets away from this group the better.

The man pretending to be Sir Rogers puts his hand on the hilt of his sword. There’s a tension that sweeps through the camp, all focus on Tony and the imposter. Tony shifts the positioning of his feet to be able to dodge.

“Really? Are you going to draw your weapon on your prince?” Tony drawls.

Perhaps the facade will survive, at least long enough for Tony to flee under the cover of night. He doubts he’ll find an ally here with the guards. They would know who Sir Rogers really is, and so their current mission is certainly not Tony’s safety.

The imposter glares at Tony, frowning.

“Sir,” a soldier nearby says, caution in his voice.

The hand comes off the sword hilt. Tony chest loosens, breath coming more easily.

“Apologies, my prince,” the imposter says. He doesn’t bow or even tilt his head in respect, but Tony accepts it anyways.

“Let us refuel - in Aefgaen if we must,” Tony says, forcing the words out and trying for lighthearted. “So that hunger doesn’t make us all so irritable, hm?”

Sir Rogers’ imposter nods in agreement, and Tony turns away.

If the camp wasn’t so silent, Tony may not have heard it. But the crackle of the fire isn’t enough to hide the snick of a dagger being drawn from its sheath, and Tony dodges left.

The imposter snarls, his arm swiping through the space Tony had just vacated.  “Get him,” he orders, and Tony leaps over the fire to evade the grasp of two other soldiers.

He’s vastly outnumbered and doesn’t have a prayer - not unless he reaches his bag that he so stupidly left at Buttercup’s feet. Arms wrap around Tony’s waist and elbows someone in the face, then knees someone else in the groin. Still, hands keep finding a grip on some part of his body. Tony wrestles and struggles, using any trick that Rhodey or Happy have taught him over the years to try to get free, but it’s not until he sweep kicks some of the coals from the fire at his captors that Tony buys himself from space.

Tony leaps for the edge of camp, toward Buttercup, and falls to the ground at her feet. She rears over him, her hooves flashing at the approaching soldiers. Tony promises endless treats for her when they get out of this mess as he rolls toward his bag. Finally, it’s in his hands and he digs through it for his gauntlets.

Tony yanks them on and then turns.

Sir Rogers’ imposter is at the front, shield in one hand and sword drawn in the other. Tony barely takes aim before he fires.

Heat burns in his chest and travels down his arm, erupting out of his hand in a bright blue blast. The blast lights up the clearing, leaving Tony blinking in its wake. He only waits for a moment before the adrenaline surges again and he leaps to his feet.

Buttercup is panicked, dancing around. Tony manages to catch her reins and calms her just enough so that he can climb into the saddle.

“Come on, girl. Time for greener pastures,” Tony says.

He looks at the chaos he’s caused. There’s a ditch in the dirt from his blast and a pile of bodies - some of them are moving, at least - against the far end of the camp. From the little light left from the scattered fire, Tony can see the broken pieces of Sir Rogers’ shield.

Tony kicks Buttercup into motion and flees into the dark forest.


	3. Bucky

There’s a horse tied up outside of his cottage. Bucky bites back a sigh and continues his trudge from the treeline. He doesn’t bother patting the black gelding, Bucky familiar enough to know to keep his distance. That horse is _mean_.

Bucky knocks before he enters. This is Bucky’s cottage and he lives alone, but when a black gelding is tied up outside then Bucky knocks. This cottage is only his because Baron Pierce lets Bucky have it. Bucky only has items to trade at the market because Baron Pierce lets Bucky hunt the land.

Bucky only has his life because Baron Pierce lets Bucky keep it.

And occasionally Baron Pierce likes to stop by and remind Bucky of that, that everything that Bucky has belongs to him - and that he can take it all away again if he wants.

Bucky explains it in a gentler way to Steve, when Steve asks how Bucky is getting along. He _is_ grateful that Baron Pierce has let Bucky have a place to stay away from the village, and allow Bucky to hunt, to have a livelihood and things to trade at the market. But today, market day, when Bucky has spent sunrise to sundown surrounded by wary and suspicious villagers who don’t like dealing with Bucky as much as Bucky doesn’t like dealing with them, Bucky doesn’t have the energy to be thankful for his life.

Not when Bucky opens the door to find Baron Pierce sitting in the only chair Bucky has, looking around with his lips turned down in distaste. Bucky had knocked, but Baron Pierce never decides to not look disgusted at Bucky’s life even with the advance notice.

“Baron Pierce,” Bucky greets with deference.

“Barnes, finally,” Baron Pierce says, eying Bucky. “Ah, I forgot it was market day.”

Bucky doubts the claim, but says nothing as he sets his pack down in the corner. He’s never exceeded the limits that Pierce has set about the number of animals that Bucky is allowed to take because it feels like Baron Pierce is always watching. Baron Pierce shows up too many times when Bucky is away, either hunting or at the market, for it to not be intentional.

Bucky has not found evidence to suggest that Pierce has gone through Bucky’s things to make sure that Bucky is following the rules, but Bucky suspects.

“Good trading?” Pierce asks, voice civil.

“Good enough,” Bucky replies. It’s mostly true, which is as close as lying that Bucky is willing to get with the baron. “What can I do for you?”

Bucky knows better than to offer Pierce a cup of tea, or for what Bucky owns that passes as tea. Nothing Bucky has is good enough to serve the baron.

Baron Pierce sighs, leaning back in the chair. “I have the unfortunate task of being the bearer of bad news,” he says.

Bucky stiffens.

Pierce continues, “But I felt that I should be the one to tell you. I know what he means to you. We’ve gotten word that Knight Rogers’ group was attacked while on a mission. I’m afraid that the rumors are true, and that Knight Rogers did not survive.”

Bucky breathes, conscious of each breath. In - and out. In - and out. Steve is gone, but Bucky has to breathe. In - and out.

Steve is the best knight that Bucky knows. And Steve had had a whole group of soldiers with him, under his command. How could this have happened? Steve had stopped by Bucky’s cottage, just for a moment before needing to leave, to complain about the ridiculous assignment. Escorting that exiled prince back to the castle was supposed to have been simply and boring. Not dangerous. Not something capable of getting Steve killed.

“Do you… may I know what happened, sir?” Bucky grits out.

Bucky feels the weight of Pierce’s gaze for several agonizing moments before Pierce decides to tell Bucky. “Knight Rogers was tasked with retrieving Prince Anthony. We thought the escort necessary due to rumors of unrest, potentially resulting in an attack on the prince.”

Bucky clenches his jaw. Steve had told him about the mission but not about the rumors. As far as Bucky knew, no one cares about the forgotten prince other than to wonder why he’s never bothered to return until now.

“But, and this is not common knowledge and needs to be kept quiet, but it would be dishonorable to Knight Rogers to keep it a secret. The attack that killed Knight Rogers came from the prince himself.”

“What?” Bucky whispers, unable to stop himself.

Baron Pierce nods. “We don’t know why or if someone else may be involved. But Prince Anthony attacked, and Knight Rogers protected his men at the cost of his life. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Bucky tries to remember to breathe. In - and out.

“And now I need your help,” Pierce sighs. “Prince Anthony ran off into the woods after the attack. As much as I would like to leave him out there, we need information. We need to know _why_ and who else might be behind this… and I need your tracking skills to do it.”

Bucky clenches his fist, anger surging under his skin.

“Track him down,” Pierce orders, gaze boring into Bucky’s. “And bring him to me. Trust no one, not even those with Knight Rogers. I need the prince alive or I won’t get answers, and I need to get them before he’s whisked away behind his mother’s skirts. Come to me first. Do you understand?”

Bucky lets the anger sink into him and give him energy. With a bit of rearrangement of his pack, Bucky can leave tonight to hunt for the prince.

The one who killed Steve.

“I understand,” Bucky promises, quiet but sure.

Whatever Baron Pierce has planned for the prince will be more painful than any death that Bucky could serve. Bucky will, however, drag the prince in chains to Baron Pierce and then spit on the man before Bucky leaves him to the baron’s questioning.

Bucky will get his vengeance.

Bucky will do it for Steve.

But first, Bucky needs a way to track down the prince. Baron Pierce is kind enough to tell Bucky the last known coordinates of the group, which was two day’s ride from the village of Aefgaen.

Only Aefgaen is at least four day’s ride from Bucky’s cottage, and Bucky doesn’t have a horse.

The baron rides away on his black gelding without offering to solve Bucky’s transport problem. Despite the number of horses in Pierce’s stables, perhaps not even this mission is important enough to rank giving Bucky one of the prized purebreds.  

Or maybe despite the baron’s flattery, he doesn’t actually need Bucky’s skills.

But this is for Steve, and so Bucky hurriedly repacks his market day bag for a longer trip and then sets off on foot.

 

 

Market day had been long, and now the day drags longer as Bucky pushes one foot in front of the other. He doesn’t head for the village closest to his cottage, though. No one there will trade Bucky a horse even if he had something of equal value. Neither is anyone likely to let Bucky borrow even so much as a donkey.

Bucky could probably steal one, if he wanted. The villager’s fear of him is probably great enough that no one would come after him. Bucky won’t, because not even Steve would approve of that, especially in Steve’s own name. Besides, Bucky has a backup plan.

The sun has long set - long enough that it is rising again by the time that Bucky reaches Antiguo. The colored tents along the eastern wall of the village make Bucky sigh in relief. The rumors in market day were true - the Asgardians still resided there.

By the time that Bucky reaches the tent, a signal has gone through the camp so that Thor is waiting for Bucky.

Bucky can’t help a small smile. Thor’s arms are open wide in greeting, his face ecstatic to be greeting Bucky even though it is just barely sunrise.

“Friend Barnes! What a wonderful surprise this very morning. Pray tell me your pack means you have finally taken us up on our offer,” Thor says as he throws his arms around Bucky, “ and are here to join us.”

“Afraid not,” Bucky admits, clapping Thor on the back. “I’m here on business.”

“And what business does a knight have with us?” Loki, Thor’s brother, asks as he ghosts up to them. “Oh excuse me. A former knight.”

Bucky bites back a grimace. He prefers it when Loki ignores Bucky’s presence, which usually is what Loki does. Bucky wishes he hadn’t caught the fortune teller’s attention this time.

“Loki,” Thor levels in warning, but he turns back to Bucky with curiosity on his face. “But what business? How can we help you this day?”

“I need to speak with Heimdall.”

“Then let me take you to him,” Thor says and steers Bucky further into the camp.

Bucky wishes, sometimes, that he could take Thor up on his repeated offer to have Bucky join the Asgardian company. Bucky is far more accepted in this camp than in his village, Thor has made sure of it. But Bucky does not want to live with his loud and boisterous group, always traveling from one place to the next - especially when his contribution would be focused on the aspect of himself that Bucky tries so hard to hide.

Thor may love the dragon arm that Bucky has in place of his left hand, but Thor is the exception. The magic involved in giving Bucky his dexterity and function back in the form of a dragon’s arm is a marvel and would fit alongside the rest of the group. But the arm is what villagers fear him for, the reason that Bucky is an outcast. Using it to draw attention to himself sets Bucky equally on edge.

Bucky hasn’t ever dared to ask if he’d be allowed to leave the cottage, either, to see if he’d be allowed to step outside of Pierce’s watch.

Besides, Bucky isn’t a magician himself, just attached to a part of a magical creature. Not everyone in the Asgardian group is a magician, but most of them are. Most of them are powerful, too, just pretending to have low levels of ability so as to remain unbothered by the Academy.

Heimdall especially, Bucky thinks as Thor leads Bucky into a blue and orange striped tent, is merely pretending to not have powerful magical abilities.

“Heimdall! Greetings this morning. I have a guest who would speak to you,” Thor says.

Heimdall is already awake and at a small table, as if waiting for Bucky to arrive. Bucky would rather pretend that Heimdall didn’t know Bucky was coming, the same way that Bucky doesn’t believe Loki actually knows Bucky’s future.

Or at least, Bucky hopes Loki does not actually know Bucky’s future. What if it only gets worse from here, now that Steve is gone?

But that’s not why Bucky is here.

“I need transportation to Aefgaen,” Bucky says. “I was hoping you could help me.”

“What did you have in mind?” Heimdall asks, leaning back in his chair.

“Same way you send messages. Only sending me instead.”

Sending messages is the excuse that any respectable person gives for being caught wandering through the Asgardian tents. Heimdall’s ‘low-level’ magic allows him to send messages to villages all over the kingdom and several nearby, faster than any horse. And, for a price, with the utmost discretion.

“James…” Thor starts, sympathy in his voice.

Heimdall shakes his head and Bucky’s stomach sinks.

“The magical input required to transport a living person is significantly higher than a simple message. It is not possible, not for me,” Heimdall explains.

“Even if I come with my own magical input?” Bucky asks, removing the glove on his left hand to reveal the dragon scales. “Think I’m different from your average villager.”

Heimdall ghosted his hand over Bucky’s dragon arm and frowns. His golden eyes bore into Bucky, and Bucky tries not to blink.

“Perhaps. The magical energy is tied to you. I couldn’t separate the arm from you if I tried.” That part, Bucky already knew. “But I can’t guarantee you would arrive safely on the other side. Your heart may forget how to beat, you may suffocate in the transfer, or you may simply be crushed by the magical forces acting on you. I have never tried to transport a living thing.”

Bucky nods in acknowledgement, but declares. “It’s worth trying.”

Thor grunts in disapproval. “What is so important that it is worth this unknown? Surely we can find you another method to get to Aefgaen. The speed of my father’s steeds cannot be outmatched by any in the kingdom!”

Bucky gives himself a moment to swallow, then answers without emotion. “Steve is dead. I’m going to track down his killer. Better I get there first or not at all.”

Thor’s face crumples. “I am sorry to hear that. Sir Rogers will be missed by many. We must do what we can to aide you on your quest. But are you sure this is the path you must take?”

“Perhaps I may be of assistance.”

Bucky turns, and there’s Loki again. Bucky eyes him warily, but Loki merely gives a sympathetic smile.

“With Barnes so sure on his path, maybe I could see whether this future holds favor?” Loki asks.

“Yes, Loki, please tell us,” Thor urges, even as Bucky’s stomach twists.

Loki smirks and his eyes brighten.

Bucky stiffens to prevent himself from shivering. It is easy to like Thor, who doesn’t flinch in the face of dangerous, scowly, ex-knights who are only trying to trade furs to survive. Thor’s brother Loki, however, with the magic and the mischief is much harder to like and Bucky has yet to manage it.

“The transport will work,” Loki states, his eyes brightening so much they glow. “You will find who you seek.”

Bucky hates the relief and excitement that those words bring him. What does it matter what Loki tells him?

“That’s it?” Bucky asks when Loki doesn’t continue.

“That is all you need to know, is it not?” Loki returns, the light in his eyes dimming back to a normal level.

“Do you have nothing more to share, brother? Barnes is a friend and deserves answers in his time of grief,” Thor says, tone bordering on an order.

Loki smirks, and then Bucky is caught in the gaze of Loki’s bright eyes.

“Grief well deserved, no doubt. The fabled knight of legend, felled? How tragic,” Loki says. Bucky is trapped where he stands, unable to lunge at him. “But unfortunately though you will find who you seek, you will not succeed. In what you will think is a moment of strength, it will be your failure.” With that, Loki disappears in a wreath of black smoke and Bucky finds he can breathe again.

“Good luck,” Loki’s voice whispers with a chuckle.  


	4. Tony

“Think we lost them?” Tony asks Buttercup as they trudge through more woods. If Tony is lost, that means anyone from not-Rogers’ group has to be lost as well, right?

Buttercup doesn’t even raise her head. She’s hungry and tired - Tony knows because he is as well. They’ve managed to stay ahead of any pursuers so far, but Tony has no idea how far their lead might be. Without knowing how close behind they might be, without knowing where the enemy is, without knowing where _he_ is in relation to anything that’s friendly territory, Tony has had a hard time sleeping. If he’s not sleeping, he might as well be moving, and if he’s moving then Buttercup is also moving.

She plods along behind him, head lowered, and Tony tries to pick the easiest routes with the least chances for stumbling as he can.

Still, Tony can feel time burning away. The short trips that Rhodey had dragged Tony out on were just that - short - and while Rhodey had imparted Tony with a little bit of wilderness survival knowledge, Tony has quickly reached the end of that resource. Tony had hidden their tracks as best he could, had not set fires at night, and used game trails when at all possible.

It’s helped some or not-Rogers’ group would’ve caught up with them, right?

Or maybe they just went to get reinforcements before attacking Tony. He hadn’t tested what his gauntlets might do to a _person_. He’d only just gotten them to work.

Tony’s chest burns and he rubs the skin over his heart. He hadn’t anticipated the side effects of using them, either.

There’s a break in the trees ahead and Tony sighs in relief.

“Come on girl,” Tony coaxes Buttercup as he guides her towards where more light is breaking through the trees. Is it too much to hope for that it’s open enough to allow grass to grow? Grazing has been slim, and while Tony has only crumbs left of his own food, it’s Buttercup that he’s more worried about.

It’s not too much to hope for - there’s a small clearing, though some brush and tree sprouts are trying to invade. Still, there’s enough area left for Buttercup to fill her stomach.

“Alright, break time,” Tony says as he lets her wander and graze. Tony’s stomach rumbles, but he’s not quite desperate enough to eat grass alongside Buttercup.

Not yet, anyway.

Tony sighs and then plops on the ground. His body aches, but he tries not to focus on it. Instead he thinks about Rhodey and Pepper, back in Maenhaeten. Right now Rhodey would probably be down at the training rings, practicing his swordsmanship with the guards. Pepper too, maybe, would be down there, but more likely practicing her archery. Or maybe they were up in the dining hall, having an afternoon break.

Coffee, they would definitely be having coffee. Oh, what Tony would give to have Happy bring him a cup, piping hot, right now. And cream and sugar to stir in - no, no those would be saved for a biscuit. Or maybe a slice of bread, but then if he had bread than he would definitely want jam to go with, especially that blueberry jam from last year’s that had been so delicious.

Buttercup lifts her head. She’s rigid with attention, her ears flickering.

Tony stands up, slowly and quietly, and scans his view. The clearing is quiet, with only Buttercup. He sees nothing moving in the trees behind him.

Tony brings up his hands anyway. He hadn’t taken the gauntlets off yet, not wanting to be caught without them.

He’s ready, waiting, when Buttercup puts her head back down, going back to eating the grass.

“Really?” Tony asks with a snort. “Do you know the strain you put on my heart right now?”

Tony lets out a long breath, hoping that will also remove the remaining tension in his body. He had been thinking about bread, curse it all, and now he can’t help but think about how close those soldiers could be and how they should get moving again. He sags back against a tree and watches Buttercup happily nip up grass.

There’s pressure on his throat, squeezing tight. Tony scrabbles, his gauntlets running into something, something around his throat. A band of some kind, hard and immoveable. Tony wheezes for air, and that’s when Buttercup’s head perks back up again.

She whinnies in alarm.

Tony is yanked sideways, then back into the trees.

He twists, kicking out. There’s someone behind him, dragging Tony on the ground. Black dots dance in front of Tony’s eyes and he forces himself to let go of clutching the band around his throat to fire blindly behind him.

Tony can’t see it, but he can feel the fire burning through him starting in his heart and then leaving his hands. The band around his throat disappears and Tony collapses to the ground, heaving for breath.

He scrambles back, feet tangled in brush and hip banging into a rock, and then his attacker is upon him again.

A man, one with a blank face surrounded by long, shaggy hair. There’s a dagger in his right hand and in his left - in his left is nothing, nothing but a black, scaly glove of some kind.

Tony raises his arms to fire again, but the attacker knocks Tony’s arms aside. Tony kicks free of the brush, and then kicks his attacker away. Tony rolls back to his feet, but not quickly enough - his opponent lunges and gets his hands back around Tony’s throat. Tony falls, his left ankle twisting underneath him, but the pressure around his throat prevents him from crying out.

Tony chokes, his hands coming back up to the hands around his neck. The man’s left hand is hard and cold - the band around Tony’s throat from earlier. There’s the give of flesh from the right hand, as Tony grabs it, but the left is too rigid.

It doesn’t make sense, Tony thinks, as his vision gets blurry around the edges. It’s not like any metal Tony has seen before. What material is that made out of?

Tony angles his palm, reaching for the fire that burns in his heart. He taps into it.

The man grabs Tony’s hand, the one that Tony has angled to fire. He grabs with his left hand and squeezes, shattering the pieces of Tony’s gauntlet.

The pain in Tony’s hand from the pressure is eclipsed by the pain in his heart. The heart had surged down Tony’s arm and then back, with nowhere to escape. The pain in Tony’s chest increases, his lungs burning for air and his heart simply burning. Tony gasps for breath that doesn’t come, struggling. His other gauntlet is turned in, hand trapped, and if he lets the power go then he’ll shoot himself. A faster death than choking, it seems.

“This is for Steve,” the attacker hisses.

Tony doesn’t have the breath to explain. Then the man slams Tony’s head back against a tree and everything goes black.

 

 

Tony wakes up to a rocking motion. He flails to complete alertness as he sways to the left and keeps swaying.

Buttercup whinnies and Tony’s motion stops as he realizes that he’s tied down too well to Buttercup’s back to slip off. He goes to protest and realizes that he has a gag in his mouth, some kind of cloth stuck in his teeth and tied behind his head.

And, even better, when he goes to untie it, he realizes that his hands are caught up in the elaborate ropework tying him to Buttercup. He’s trussed up better than the prized pig of the hunting parties, though that might be because he’s still alive to struggle.

Tony is surprised to still be breathing.

He looks up from his hands and meets the gaze of his attacker and now captor. The man glares at Tony, then comes back to check the knots of the rope from where he’s leading Buttercup. His captor tugs the knots tighter, the rope biting into Tony’s skin.

Tony glares his best, but the man appears unaffected. Buttercup shifts around, uncomfortable with the ropes, but the man has a tight hold of her reins.

The man goes back to leading her, and while Tony squirms as much as he can, ultimately it’s to no avail.

Tony sighs into his gag. It was going to be a long journey.

 

Tony is bored.

He’s been reduced to seeing how many leaves he can count on a tree before they pass by. His captor doesn’t talk, and Tony can’t with the gag. Tony can’t even draw or read or write down his ideas like he had before when he was traveling with a silent group content on ignoring Tony. With his hands tied, Tony does nothing but sit and think and fiddle with the ropes.

With the panic replaced by boredom, Tony starts to remember where he’s seen something like that arm before. It isn’t a pleasant memory.

Howard had almost died by that arm. This has to be the man who attacked the king yet still lived to tell the tale. Tony had thought him exiled from the kingdom, but either way the man is back. How many people could have a dragon arm connected to their body? And this man had taken the king by the throat and squeezed, just as he had done to Tony.

Sir Steve Rogers had been the one to stop the attack, propelling the knight into the king’s favor and gratitude. But then Sir Rogers had turned down Howard’s offers of titles or land or money, and instead Sir Rogers had begged the king to spare the man’s life.

Howard had refused, but Obie had talked Howard around eventually. And Sir Rogers’ loyalty to the kingdom - to the king above all else, and especially his childhood friend - had to be repaid with unending missions during his knighthood.

But now the man is back again, with Tony in his sights. Or perhaps this is merely a ploy to once again attemp to attack the king?

Damn Sir Rogers. Hopefully he’s just as short as his imposter.

When they stop for camp that night, Tony regrets to see that his captor is too smart to make simple mistakes. First Buttercup is tied to a tree so that Tony can’t urge her into an escape even while still tied to her back. Then the man unties Tony so that Tony can only slide off the horse in one direction - towards his captor.

In a way, it’s an impressive criss-cross of rope, but it mostly annoys Tony.

Tony dismounts without grace, sliding off Buttercup’s back with his hands still tied. He hits the ground and then collapses, forgetting the injury to his ankle from earlier.

Immediately his captor is on Tony, pushing Tony into the ground and making sure Tony can’t roll away. Buttercup prances above them, her hooves dangerously close to both of their heads.

The captor drags Tony back, Tony’s face scratching against the dirt but at least away from Buttercup’s nervous footsteps.

Tony talks through the gag, but it isn’t until his captor has re-tied Tony - this time sitting against a tree, with his ankles locked together - that the man removes the gag.

“It’s my ankle. Twisted it from earlier. It wasn’t a stupid escape attempt,” Tony explains as he tries to rub dirt off his face with his shoulder.

Tony’s captor snorts, but he does hand Tony a piece of jerky meat.

Tony’s stomach rumbles, and he takes a large bite. It isn’t bread, but it was certainly better than the foliage that Buttercup is trying to nose out of the forest floor. And, bonus, Tony can easily eat it while his hands are tied in front of him.

Tony should take tips in case he ever needs to kidnap someone.

Tony swallows down another bite of the jerky as he watches his captor set up camp. He wants to know what he’s in for and what he can expect. If this man wanted Tony dead, then Tony would not have woken up again, so Tony might as well push his luck.

“I have to admit, I’m not great with names. Or faces either, much, you have no idea what kind of trouble that gets me into, but I will say that I’ve been away from Brucklin for awhile. So it’s understandable, I hope, that I don’t know who you are… which is?” Tony prompts.

The man doesn’t even glance at Tony.

“It’s very forward of you to attack a man you don’t know.”

Nothing but silence.

“What is Sir Rogers going to think when he hears what you’ve -”

The man lunges, and Tony flinches back against the tree but has no space to move. That dragon arm is once again around Tony’s throat, choking him. The bruising on his throat must be fantastic, Tony thinks with the limited air he has left in his brain.

More pressure on his windpipe, and Tony looks into the eyes of his captor. The scowl on the man’s face is full of hatred, and Tony is sure that this time he will not wake up again.

Tony’s vision goes fuzzy, and that’s when the man let’s go.

Tony coughs and tries to heave air into his lungs while the man retreats.

“Don’t - don’t mention him, got it,” Tony chokes out. Message received loud and clear.

“Not if you want to live,” the man growls.

Once his throat has recovered enough and his head doesn’t feel stuffed full from the lack of air, Tony finishes his jerky. He also drinks from the cup of water that the man places just within Tony’s reach.

Killing Tony doesn’t seem to be on the agenda, then. He licks his lips.

“I’m quite the wanted man, it seems. It’s such a warm welcome home for me, having been away from Brucklin for so long. You didn’t happen to run into any more competitors for my attention, did you?”

The man turns his back and Tony sits back in relief. He stares up at the canopy of the leaves for a moment, before continuing. He watches his captor for any tell as Tony speaks.

“I’m curious. Is this a scavenger hunt, where first to the prize wins? Or first to cross the finish line, or…? I must say, your entertainment value is quite low, so I do hope you’re taking me to meet someone much more lively.”

The gag goes into Tony’s mouth again, and Tony admits he’s not surprised.


	5. Bucky

Bucky is not as strong as Pierce might think. That’s twice now that he almost killed his target rather than bring the prince back alive, and still the temptation itches underneath Bucky’s skin. Bucky clenches both of his fists, fingers twitching as Bucky looks at the prince’s bruised throat again. Very tempting.

That Steve’s murderer lives while Steve does not is insulting.

But Pierce needs to know about the blue fire from the prince’s gauntlets. Where did they come from, and who else has them? Those, whatever they are, are a weapon to be feared. Bucky isn’t sure with his advanced healing - one of the _gifts_ of his dragon arm - that he would survive a direct blast.

It does explain how a spoiled, untrained prince killed Steve. Not that the knowledge helps in any way, not when Bucky had found those broken pieces of Steve’s shield, but at least Steve died protecting his soldiers. Steve would’ve preferred that, that his death mean something.

And Steve’s soldiers seemed to be hunting the prince too, with single-minded purpose, but Bucky had disguised the trail to let him bring the prince back to Pierce without a fight.

The last thing Bucky wanted to do was defend Steve’s killer from one of Steve’s men just so Pierce could extract information.

As long as Bucky kept them moving, they should be able to stay ahead of the rest. Steve had been the best tracker in the bunch, and even he had struggled to track Bucky. Keeping the prince bound and gagged on the horse should keep them both moving quickly enough to stay ahead of trouble.

Still, Bucky realized that he couldn’t make the entire journey back on just what he had packed back at his cottage. He could starve the prince - let the prince know what it feels like to be hungry - but Bucky can’t starve the horse.

Aefgaen is the closest village, and so Aefgaen it is.

When there’s a break in the trees so that the mountains on the north side of Aefgaen are visible, there’s a keening sound behind Bucky. Bucky turns and sees the prince staring up at the mountains, face pale.

Bucky snorts and tugs the horse forward. Let the prince fear his future, though Bucky has no plans of trading him here.

Bucky also can’t risk the magical travel that brought him here, not since Bucky needs to guarantee the prince’s life. It isn’t even a system that Bucky would want to use again. The interim of traveling from one place to the other had been… very cold, so cold that Bucky forgot what _feeling_ was.

The dense forest gradually gives way to rockier ground, and soon Bucky is leading the horse up a game trail at the foot of one of the mountains. Bucky guides them into a cave, and after checking that there aren’t any current occupants - animal or people - Bucky creates an elaborate artwork out of tying of the horse’s reins to rocks, then stacking the rocks on top of each other.

When he’s done Bucky pulls at the rope, hard, and it doesn’t budge from underneath it’s weighted load. Nodding to himself, Bucky heads for the entrance.

“I’ll be back. Don’t make much noise, or there might be worse dangers than me nearby.”

The prince is shaking on the horse, and Bucky eyes him. The ropes that tie the prince to the horse seem to be holding though, and Bucky is satisfied. Then the prince starts screaming through the gag, completely ignoring Bucky’s suggestion to stay quiet. Bucky shakes his head and continues to the entrance, but the prince’s screams get louder.

The horse shuffles, and Bucky looks back to make sure that she isn’t likely to trip over any of the rocks around. What Bucky sees are the prince’s eyes wide with terror, the whites of his eyes showing up even in the darkened cave.

Frowning, Bucky turns around and heads back to the prince. He tugs the gag down.

“What?” Bucky barks.

“Don’t, don’t leave me here,” the prince says, voice strained. “Don’t… I’ll keep quiet, I won’t escape, just don’t leave me here.”

Bucky blinks and steps back in the wake of the prince’s desperation. The prince is begging, in a way that Bucky would’ve expected much earlier when Bucky had attacked. And the prince isn’t even really in danger at the moment - possibly, sure, but still low enough risk for Bucky to not be too worried - so why now?

“I can’t, I can’t,” the prince says. “Please.”

While Bucky remains stone-faced, his heart winces. Those big brown eyes have probably gained the prince a lot of favors, certainly, but even knowing that Bucky is having a hard time looking away. The fear and desperation in them… Bucky doesn’t enjoy putting them there.

Steve, though. This was Steve’s killer.

“Whatever you want, whatever you’re after - I’ll make sure my father gives it to you, just don’t -”

A quick burst of anger lashes through Bucky, and he punches the prince - with his human arm rather than his dragon arm, for which the prince should be grateful.

“I want Steve Rogers back, you bastard,” Bucky growls. “How about you give me that?”

The prince heaves for breath - since Bucky had punched him in the stomach - but his face twists into confusion rather than the guilt Bucky expects.

“I… you want me to give him a title or some land?”

“I want him alive! Instead of dead at the end of one of your _weapons_ ,” he spits.

“I didn’t... That wasn’t me!”

Bucky sneers. “I saw his shield. I saw what you can do.”

“I hadn’t run the proper tests,” the prince says, voice frantic. “I didn’t know, I hadn’t planned on using them - not on people - but then he attacked me!”

Bucky’s body flares hot. “Steve wouldn’t, not unless _you_ -”

“Besides,” the prince interrupts, so loudly that the horse startles sideways and the prince lurches to the side, “that wasn’t Sir Rogers!”

Bucky lets out a dark laugh and reaches for the gag again. “I saw his shield.”

“So did I,” the prince says, trying to avoid Bucky’s reach. “That shield, right? But even I know that Sir Steven Rogers is supposed to be tall, blonde, and blue-eyed. Too many songs to get that wrong, and I’m telling you that the person under the helm pretending to be Sir Rogers was none of those things.”

Bucky sneers, but the prince seems too frantic to be lying. Besides, it had bothered him that while he had found the destruction left in the wake of the prince’s weapons, he hadn’t found Steve’s body or signs of a grave.

Had Steve’s soldiers taken it with them? But then why hadn’t they taken the pieces of Steve’s shield with them, if they wanted to give Steve a proper burial?

“I’m telling you,” the prince continues, “the man who said he was Sir Rogers had brown eyes. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes or even speak to me until that final night, when he attacked me.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Pierce will get the truth out of you.”

The prince relaxes, and Bucky snarls. It’s the opposite of the response that Bucky had wanted.

“Baron Pierce? Sure deal, happy to talk. I’ll go quietly, on my family’s honor. Just… don’t leave me here. Please. Not… not here,” the prince pleads quietly. “Or I’ll be gone by the time you come back.”

Bucky snorts in amusement, but then clenches his jaw when the prince waves his hands at Bucky, free of the rope.

“You don’t want to kill me - or at least, are willing to bring me to Baron Pierce more than your desire to kill me. At the moment, that makes you my nearest ally on this side of the Maenhaeten border, so I’ll take it. Bring me to Pierce and I’ll talk.”

Bucky gives the prince a slow look to make sure there are no more tricks up his sleeves. “Aefgaen isn’t much safer than the caves,” Bucky warns. Still, he considers the idea. It’s always easier to have a cooperative hostage than an unwilling one.

And even if the prince is lying, it’s a lie that Bucky would like to believe. Maybe that means Steve is out there somewhere, and it was someone else who died in Steve’s place.

Maybe this is why Bucky fails his mission, like Loki said. Maybe Bucky believes the lie, is too soft-hearted, and he lets the prince escape. But no - Bucky will still bring the prince to Pierce so that Pierce can be sure to extract the truth.

“I’ll take anything over a cave,” the prince rasps.

Bucky gives a short nod and starts undoing his rock formation that traps the horse’s reins.

“Fine, then you can come. But any attempt at escape means I’ll hunt you down and leave you in the caves until I bring Baron Pierce here to you instead,” Bucky bluffs. As if Pierce would ever go where Bucky directed.

But the prince agrees anyway, and so Bucky leads them out of the caves.

 

Bucky steals the supplies that they need in Aefgaen, but it doesn’t happen quite like he had expected. Instead of going for the easy steals, Tony - as the prince had urged Bucky to call him - had directed Bucky to steal specifically from those who were obviously wealthy. Food, blankets, and feed all from those who could afford to lose it, as Tony had explained.

Bucky doesn’t bother reminding Tony that the poor had little worth stealing anyways, but it’s hard for Bucky to not give Tony credit for trying, as Tony had been very insistent.

Tony had also been a good distraction, which made it an effective partnership. Although Bucky had refused to leave the reimbursement notes in the place of the stolen goods, which urged their victims to seek out reimbursement from the king. Bucky reminded Tony that they still needed to keep a low profile.

The prince continues to be not quite like Bucky expects. Without the gag, Tony talks. Tony talks a lot. Tony talks enough that Bucky thinks about almost putting the gag back in Tony’s mouth - as a warning, more than anything, as Bucky decides to leave Tony’s hands untied in a show of cautious trust - but Bucky finds that he doesn’t mind.

He’s surprised by that. Bucky is so used to the quiet sounds of the forest, and unless Pierce is in his cottage or Bucky goes into the village on market day, he doesn’t hear human voices. Bucky himself doesn’t talk much, and often he has to practice using his voice on the way to the village so he doesn’t rasp during the morning trades and he keeps all the conversations short. No one gossips with him, and Bucky is fine with that as usually the chatter that Bucky overhears annoys him.

Not Tony though.

It might have something to do with Tony including Bucky in the conversation, though only requiring minimal effort from Bucky. All Bucky needs to do is nod, shake his head, or sometimes shrug and that’s all Tony needs to continue. Sometimes Bucky might say more, if he wants, but Tony is happy to carry the conversation without it. Sometimes Tony even talks to Buttercup instead,  - but with fondness and familiarity, and Bucky smiles at the fact that the prince talks to his horse.

It makes Bucky bold enough to ask a question, as Tony calls out the observance of a hawk circling high above a break in the tree canopy.

“What’s the problem with Aefgaen?”

Tony blinks at Bucky in surprise. “What?”

Bucky shrugs, suddenly regretting asking. “The caves. Aefgaen. You… haven’t mentioned what the big issue with them is.”

“What’s wrong with your arm?” Tony snaps back.

Anger and embarrassment flares inside Bucky’s chest, and he tugs Buttercup along at a faster pace.

Tony doesn’t talk much after that.


	6. Bucky

Bucky sighs from where he’s unloading some supplies from his pack as he watches Tony stumble and curse. Tony had refused to sit and rest his ankle - now Bucky was regretting the injury that before meant his target couldn’t sneak away quickly, and now hindered their movements - and so Bucky had told Tony to sit.

Tony hadn’t listened.

“Don’t. You won’t heal,” Bucky orders with a sigh.

“I’ll heal,” Tony protests, chin jutting up. “You’d rather me what, not walk? I’ll guess I’ll sit and be the spoiled prince and let you do everything, hm? I’m not _useless_ , I -”

“Just sit.”

“No. I’ll get some water, and I wanted to wash up a bit anyways. Then at least I won’t be a _smelly_ spoiled prince who just sits on the log while you fetch me things. Besides, I figured we don’t want everyone finding us by my scent.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and he forgets. He forgets that this is Tony, a prince - not Steve whining when Steve was small and sickly. And so Bucky forgets and does what he would’ve done when he and Steve were kids. He slings Tony over his shoulder and then five steps later he tosses Tony into the stream.

Bucky doesn’t remember who he is, who Tony is, what they are, until after Tony is splashing into the water with a yelp.

Bucky freezes on the bank, feet sinking into the mud, as he watches Tony surface while gasping for air.

“What was _that_?” Tony asks as he sputters.

Bucky’s cheeks heat, and his throat closes up. He doesn’t have an answer.

Tony laughs, hard and free. “Alright, sure, save my ankle the trip I guess. If I smelled that bad you should’ve said something earlier,” he says, grinning wide at Bucky.

Bucky nods. “Right,” he mutters.

Tony strips off his shirt and flings it at Bucky. Bucky side steps the soaked fabric and it lands on a rock with a smack. Bucky raises his eyebrows at the prince, and tries to keep the judgemental expression on his face as he takes in Tony.

Drops of water cascade from Tony’s brown, curly hair down his neck and down his lean chest. Tony’s tanned skin glistens under the water and the fading light of the sunset.

Bucky’s heart beats hard, and he swallows. He’s forgotten how alone he’s been out in his cottage. He’s forgotten what it is to look, and to want, and to imagine. He’s forgotten what he likes, because it was easier to ignore than to constantly wish.

Now Bucky remembers, looking at Tony standing half-naked in the lake with a grin and a challenge in his eyes. Bucky remembers what it is to _want_.

But this is the prince, and a prince who might still be Steve’s killer.

When Tony starts unbuckling his pants, Bucky beats a hasty retreat back to camp.

 

Throwing Tony in the stream has to be one of Bucky’s worst ideas. Tony may have gotten clean - and now Bucky knows that Tony can take a joke - but now all of Tony’s clothes are sopping wet and Tony needs to borrow some of Bucky’s.

“This is your fault,” Tony reminds Bucky as Bucky digs through his pack for spare clothing.

Bucky focuses on his bag rather than Tony, because Tony is wet and shirtless with pants clinging to every bit of Tony’s legs. Of all the times for Bucky to remember what attraction is, is has to be when he’s on a trip with a handsome prince and no one other than a horse for company.

Worst idea ever, because now Bucky’s clothes hang loosely on Tony. Tony has to roll the cuffs on the pants and tie off the shirt bottom, and Tony looks like a villager who Bucky could run into at the market. And if they had run into each other at the market, then maybe Tony - warm, talkative Tony - would’ve even extended his conversation to Bucky and they could just be taking a walk through the woods right now instead of Bucky dragging the prince back to Baron Pierce.

The bruising, fading but still present, around Tony’s neck reminds Bucky of his mission. Though maybe he should get Tony a mirror to remind Tony of their first meeting, too. That way Tony wouldn’t be coaxing Bucky into sleeping next to him for warmth.

“Shift over, Barnes. I don’t want to freeze to death,” Tony says, rolling his eyes as Bucky barely even twitches at the summons. Tony scoots closer, then. Tony scoots a _lot_ closer. Bucky stiffens as Tony presses up against him. There’s still layers of fabric between them, but underneath that is skin, and it has been a long time since anyone has gotten close enough to Bucky to touch. Well, Steve had hugged him before Steve left on the mission to escort the prince, but before that...

Lying next to Tony like this, how is Bucky going to sleep? Even if the temperature has dropped and sharing body heat is warranted, even if they’re curled up against Buttercup’s side to steal her warmth as well, Bucky isn’t going to be able to relax with Tony touching him.

“You okay?” Tony whispers, voice soft.

Bucky shivers and nods. “Warm enough?”

“You’ll do,” Tony says and then smiles at Bucky.

Bucky ducks his head and closes his eyes. Tony is a prince and Bucky is a half-step away from being exiled from the kingdom. Even if Bucky was just a villager, he’d have a better reason to look too long at Tony - Bucky is worse than a nobody, because he is the man with a dragon arm who tried to kill the king.

Only Tony doesn’t seem to remember that Bucky is dangerous and to be feared. Tony calling Bucky his only ally from here to the Maenhaeten border has perhaps made Tony forget, because Tony is not acting like Bucky would expect a prince to act.

Tony has no problem sharing the ride with Buttercup when Bucky tires, even if it means Bucky is pressed up against Tony’s back for stretches of time. Tony hasn’t complained about the rations that Bucky hands him, even though Bucky doesn’t give him more than Bucky gives himself. Tony doesn’t complain about his injury, or the fact that Bucky gave it to him, as he hobbles about camp at night and in the morning.

“So tell me about Brucklin,” Tony says as they lie pressed together.

Bucky shifts, moving a rock that had been pressing into his thigh, as he thinks about his answer. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Haven’t gotten around much.” At least, not for a very long time - about twelve years, the same as Tony. Bucky had gotten a glimpse of the world as he’d trained as a squire under Sir Johann Schmidt, but now he was restricted to Baron Pierce’s lands.

Tony blinks in surprise. “Oh.”

Bucky looks up at the canopy. He can barely make out the shape of the leaves and branches in the dark. He’d not built a fire so that others couldn’t spot them from a distance - just in case they were closer than Bucky expects.

“You know what I did. Had to be monitored, you know? Baron Pierce let me on his lands, and I’m grateful,” Bucky says, ignoring all of his issues with Pierce. He would never be caught saying anything bad about Pierce.  “How was Maenhaeten?”

Tony smiles. “It was good… very good. I recommend going - if you’re ever allowed to, I mean. Or want to. Nothing wrong with staying home, you know?”

“That what it is to you now, home?” Bucky asks, curious. “You were there a long time.”

Tony blows out a long breath, and Bucky reads the answer in that. Still, he’s surprised when Tony says, “Twelve years. Yeah… yeah it was home.”

A prince isn’t supposed to admit that, not about a kingdom that wasn’t his own. Bucky feels the weight of that secret, surprised and honored to be trusted with it.

Tony chuckles, a sound without any humor. “It isn’t like I was wanted here anyway. You know for the first few years, I sent letters begging to return. Maenhaeten was great, but it wasn’t home, not yet, and at the time I thought it was just a short-term thing.”

More secrets that Bucky, of all people, shouldn’t know. He shouldn’t be trusted with this. But Bucky turns to look at Tony, and it’s Tony who quirks a half-smile and looks away.

“My mother replied, of course. She sent me letters - so many, at first, it had to be at least once a fortnight. She always said that I had to stay and I… I got angry, and then stopped replying. If they missed me then they’d let me come home right?” Tony snorts. “No, she just stopped sending letters. One every fortnight turned into one every new moon phase which turned into… well, the only letter I get now is one on my birthday. Even when I started replying again, it didn’t matter. One letter a year and that’s all I got from Brucklin.”

A letter a year is better than Bucky gets, with his family gone and only Steve’s random visits, but Bucky has a stab of sympathy. If his family was alive, then Bucky would hope for more contact than that.

“Figured you would try mirror-talking to your family, being royal,” Bucky says softly.

Tony shrugs. “Obie always had better uses for them when he finally has time to enchant a pair. Soldiers or healers or even academies talking to each other - that’s much more important. Couldn’t be selfish.”

“Huh,” is all Bucky says. It’s not enough but the right words don’t come to him.

“But King James and Queen Roberta treated me well - like I was another son. I can’t complain,” Tony urges. “Besides, Rhodey is going to come visit me soon, so… just have to stay alive until then.”

“Rhodey?” Bucky asks.

“Rhodey - James Rhodes the Third. Heir to the throne, and one of my best friends. The other is his sister, Pepper. Or, well, I call her Pepper, but her name is Virginia.”

Bucky nods, his gut churning. Tony is going to sound like a traitor, with his close relationship to the royal family and Maenhaeten feeling like home. If Pierce ever finds out, Tony will have to prove himself ten times over - and Bucky fears the forms of those tests.

“You might,” Bucky offers slowly, “want to tell your friend to wait a bit. I mean, so you can get settled in? It might look…”

Tony raises his eyebrows at Bucky. “What, it would look bad to have Rhodey come? What are you talking about? Besides, Rhodey has to help me figure out my issue with the gauntlets. Turn the power down so I don’t blast a hole in the castle wall or something.”

“You would show him?” Bucky says, going rigid. He’s seen Tony scribble at papers in the morning light, but Tony had always stuffed them away in his bag before Bucky could see.

And Bucky hadn’t asked. Tony is the prince, after all, and some secrets Bucky is better off not knowing. But to show that weapon’s secrets to Maenhaeten’s heir?

“Of course,” Tony scoffs.

“People will question your loyalty,” Bucky warns.

Tony rolls his eyes. “ _People_ can say what they want. Besides, we’re allies!”

“For now -”

“Always,” Tony presses. “I’m sure of it. What could we possibly be at odds with Maenhaeten over, with something we can’t solve through diplomacy? No, no I don’t believe that Brucklin has anything to fear from Maenhaeten, and especially not from Rhodey _or_ Pepper.”

Bucky shakes his head, but politics isn’t his arena.

Tony rolls over, putting his back to Bucky. “I figured you would’ve understood, with what Sir Rogers did for you and for what you’re trying to do for him.”

Bucky doesn’t have a reply and he doesn’t bother coming up with one. Tony is clearly done with the conversation, and soon his body relaxes into sleep. Bucky stays up, the touch from Tony pressing back into Bucky’s side a constant buzzing presence in his mind as he turns over what Tony has said.

Loyalty. Bucky isn’t sure the prince should feel loyalty to another kingdom that isn’t their own, but then again maybe Maenhaeten is better than Brucklin. Bucky has stayed as far away from the politics of royals as possible since his attack on the king, so maybe Bucky doesn’t understand. But Bucky does understand loyalty, and he appreciates that Tony recognizes it in him.

Pierce knows what loyalty means. He’s required it of Bucky for the past twelve years. And Bucky has been loyal, obeying orders at every step. But this… Bucky is not sure that his loyalty to Pierce will withstand this. That his loyalty to Pierce will withstand Tony.


	7. Tony

“We’re getting close,” Bucky announces.

“Well that’s good news,” Tony says, though he isn’t sure that it’s true.

The journey hasn’t been terrible after they moved past first impressions and almost leaving Tony in a cave. Tony could definitely use a bath, a change of clothes, and a good night’s sleep, but he knows that’s not what’s ahead of him. Or at least Tony realizes that it’s most likely not ahead of him anytime soon. Bucky seems to come around on the ‘not killing Rogers issue, but Tony will have to start all over with Pierce and unless Sir Steven Rogers shows up somewhere alive, Tony doesn’t have a lot of evidence on his side.

Tony has never met Baron Pierce, only heard his name alongside his father’s other nobles. But Tony doesn’t like the look in Bucky’s eyes whenever the man comes up. Something in Bucky closes up whenever the name is mentioned, and Tony doesn’t think that’s a good sign. Tony only hopes that the meeting with Pierce goes quickly so that Tony can be back on his way to the castle - and his mother - soon.

Tony nudges Buttercup into following Bucky’s trail.

Tony wishes he could get to know Bucky more, too. They’ve worked better together on this few day journey than Tony would have ever anticipated. Usually Tony would have annoyed whoever he was with by now, either by talking too much or not enough, either too loud or too quiet.

But Bucky hasn’t snapped at Tony at all, and even seems to be listening. Or at least Bucky picks the right spots to nod or hum or respond to. An easy listener - too easy, really, as Tony realizes the secrets that he’s spilled to Bucky when they huddled together in the dark.

The future had seemed so distant then, but now with Bucky announcing their arrival soon, Tony isn’t sure what to think anymore.

He’s noticed the looks Bucky has given him when Bucky thought Tony wasn’t looking. Tony has done his best to encourage those slow, heavy glances that make Bucky turn away and blush when Tony catches him. If the conversation with Pierce goes poorly, it will be good to have Bucky still on his side.

Also, it gives Tony permission to look back, and Bucky is _gorgeous_. The blue eyes are nice, even when they’re hidden behind shaggy brown hair. Tony thinks a lot of it is in the walk, where Bucky strides confidently no matter what the terrain is. The easy confidence in the woods adds grace to Bucky’s motions, and Tony doesn’t think Bucky even realizes.

Then there’s that smile, rare but breathtaking when it appears. The quick flashes of humor that Bucky displays with a short comment. The way Bucky’s brows furrow when he thinks for a moment before he asks Tony a question. That Bucky understands the friendship that Tony has with Rhodey. The way that Bucky’s grip is soft with Buttercup, even with the dragon arm.

And oh, how Tony is intrigued by that arm. How does it work, and how is it connected to Bucky? Magic and man so intertwined, it had to be an expert craftsman that Tony has never heard of who had made that happen.

What Tony could give to be able to see how human and dragon flesh meet up close, but Bucky has always been quick with his shirt changes. And Bucky has always sidestepped away from the conversation, and sometimes Tony _does_ know when not to push.

Tony will miss the camaraderie that they have when Tony talks to Baron Pierce and then goes onto the castle. Maybe Bucky will be willing - and have the freedom - to visit. Surely Tony can scrape together the political power to do that much.

  
“We’re probably two days out yet, if we stick to avoiding the main roads,” Bucky says.

“Let’s do that,” Tony agrees. “No need to take chances now.”

Bucky turns back and looks at Tony. He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut and continues walking.

Tony raises his eyebrows at Bucky’s back, but doesn’t comment.

Then, before the sun has even ticked a candle length’s time across the sky, Bucky turns back again, mouth open. Then he shakes his head and continues on.

Tony frowns. “Do you want to share a ride? Buttercup seems to be doing fine here,” Tony offers. He would offer to switch - Tony walk and Bucky ride, but Bucky has turned him down every time. Even if Tony’s ankle feels better, he has to admit - at least to himself - that he’s not completely healed yet.

Bucky’s shoulders drop. “No,” he says softly as he turns around and looks at Tony. “I was, I was just thinking… Look, maybe instead we should head for…”

“I’m open to route changes,” Tony says when Bucky falls silent again.

Bucky shakes his head and takes three more steps before whirling around again. “Forget the plan. I’ll take to you straight to -”

Bucky yelps, cutting off his sentence, as he stumbles back, away from Tony. His eyes are wide as he stumbles back more, then falls to the ground and rolls away, even as Bucky claws at the ground to stop his progress.

“Bucky? Bucky!” Tony calls out as he kicks Buttercup after Bucky. Buttercup leaps forward but only strides forward five paces before she rears in alarm.

Bucky has _disappeared_.

“Bucky!”

Tony dismounts from Buttercup and slowly crawls forward, feeling the ground in front of him. There’s nothing to distinguish it from the ground they’ve been traveling on this whole time, which Tony would never have expected to swallow either of them up.

“Here,” Tony hears from under the ground, along with Bucky’s groan. “A few more hand lengths in front of you. There’s an edge to a pit.”

“What is this?” Tony asks as he crawls to the edge that Bucky said. There’s no line, no feature that Tony sees that Bucky is talking about.

“Trap,” Bucky says, and Tony doesn’t like the strain he hears in Bucky’s voice. “Magic draw, pulls things in if it’s… magic,” Bucky ends with a gasp.

Tony’s fingers hit air rather than the dirt that his mind tells him he should be touching. A pulse of heat from his heart, and his fingers warm and turn blue before the ground shimmers and then disappears.

Now Tony kneels at the edge of a pit, one covered in skeletons and half-rotten corpses with Bucky on top. Bucky is turned on his side, his left arm deep into the skeletons below him as he cranes his head up at Tony.

“How’d you…?”

“Must not hold up to continued interference,” Tony explains quickly as he leaves his hand below the level of the pit. “Can you climb out?”

Bucky shakes his head, sweat beading on his brow. “Hurts to move much. Give me a hand?”

“I’ll get a rope,” Tony says as he quickly darts back to where Bucky’s pack had slipped off his shoulders in the slide. Tony swallows.

If this was a magical trap, would it call to Tony as well if he gets too close?

Tony ties one end of the rope to Buttercup’s saddle horn and then tosses the other end at Bucky.

“Does this trap magicians?” Tony asks as he watches Bucky do his best to wrap the rope around the one arm that’s free.

“Nah. At least not supposed to,” Bucky explains as he tests the pull. He nods at Tony, who carefully directs Buttercup away from the pit. “It’s just for us magical creatures.”

The arm, Tony realizes. Not that the pit was big enough for any full-sized dragon unless it was recently hatched, which seems short-sighted. Although dragons haven’t been spotted in Brucklin in ages, so perhaps a smaller pit was simply economical.

Bucky is silent then, and Tony walks Buttercup back step by step. Bucky’s human hand finally appears over the ledge, rope wrapped around. Then Bucky’s head shows, his jaw clenched and face white.

“Stop,” Bucky gasps. “Stop!”

Tony halts Buttercup immediately and races back to Bucky.

“Can’t, can’t. Not letting me go,” Bucky grits out as he hangs on the edge of the pit. The dragon arm is a weight trying to drag Bucky back into the pile of corpses.

“Take it the arm doesn’t come off?” Tony asks as he digs in his own pack.

Bucky closes his eyes and shakes his head. His chest heaves for breath, face pinched tight.

Tony’s throat goes dry as he pulls the one remaining gauntlet he has out of his pack. This had better work, or Tony will take it up with Yinsen whatever form of afterlife there was.

Tony should have his tools that are still back in Maenhaeten to do this, but his fingers are light and sure as he pulls back the leather covering the gear mechanisms. Tony should also have more time, but he moves as quickly as he can to adjust and tinker and shift parts around.

Bucky stiffles most, but not all, of a whine. Tony ignores him, working quickly.

“Please. A quick death is better… than this,” Bucky gasps out.

 “I’m not killing you,” Tony growls as he slips his hand back inside the gauntlet. “I’m saving you,” he promises.

Tony fires off a practice shot into the distance, or at least he tries. The power that had come out of his palm before is reduced. There’s no blast output like before, instead only the hum of power that stays cupped in his hand.

Tony turns to Bucky and grabs his arm, his dragon arm.

Bucky stares, wide-eyed, at where Tony has grabbed him.

“Is this working?” Tony hisses. The heat is building in his heart, in his chest. His arm is growing hot from the power leaking down. The gauntlet may have dialed it down, but Tony’s heart is feeding it too much power.

“Yes,” Bucky says with wonder, “it is. “

Tony slides his hand down Bucky’s arm, trying to touch as much of the dragon scales as possible. Tony can’t feel the difference through the gauntlet, and he hopes he gets another chance to look at Bucky’s arm up close like this.

Tony clicks for Buttercup to walk again, and slowly Bucky rises out of the pit. There’s still strain on Bucky’s face, pain pulling his muscles taut, but Bucky doesn’t call for Buttercup to stop again. Tony keeps his hand on Bucky’s dragon arm the entire time, and even as Bucky finally rises up out of the pit, they still keep going.

“Go, more, more,” Bucky pants.

Buttercup keeps walking, Bucky lets himself be dragged, and Tony slides along keeping his hand on Bucky.

“Okay, good,” Bucky finally says.

Tony calls to Buttercup to stop, then Tony strides back to the pit. He feels heated, overly warm, and his anger at this pit - that this has happened to so many other creatures, regardless of the parts being connected to a human - has Tony burning.

“Tony?” Bucky calls after him, but Bucky stays where he is. “Tony!”

Tony doesn’t have time to make the adjustments on the gauntlet again. Instead he just stands at the edge of the pit and _pushes_. The initial resistance at the motion gives way, and there’s a bright blast of blue fire that erupts from Tony’s hand and scorches the pit.

Vegetation catches fire, and blue flames dance around the edge. Finally there’s a ‘pop,’ a release of air pressure that Tony hopes means the spell is broken. He doesn’t have any desire to test it with Bucky, though. They’ll go around.

Tony trudges back to Bucky, now feeling drained. His muscles quiver, and he collapses on the ground next to where Bucky sits.

Bucky blinks at him. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “Thanks for not leaving me there.”

“You’re welcome?” Tony replies with surprise. “What other option was there?”

Bucky snorts. “Could’ve left me. Nothing would’ve stood between you and the castle, then.”

“I gave you my word. I would come to Baron Pierce with you,” Tony replies.

Bucky nods, then his gaze catches on the gauntlet. “How did that even work?”

Tony swallows. He may as well confess, because people will ask anyway once he goes around and starts finding more of those death traps to destroy. Why were they even here?

“I might have a condition,” Tony admits softly.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Bucky snorts. “Might have to give me more than that.”

Tony offers up a weak smile. “My heart was… bad, when I was a kid so a phoenix traded his for mine.”

Bucky eyes Tony. “You being serious?”

Tony smiles, a more genuine one, and nods. The story spills out of Tony in fits and starts. He’s only explained the whole thing once before, and that had been when he was drunk teenager babbling to an equally drunk Rhodey after their first taste of mead.

How Tony, when there had been concerns for his safety after Bucky’s almost-successful attack on the king, had been traveling on his way to stay in Maenhaeten until the danger had passed. But then he’d met danger on the road anyway, getting kidnapped and trapped in one of the caves north of Aefgaen for several months until he’d finally escaped with the help of an equally trapped phoenix by the name of Yinsen.

Yinsen had been old and tired, the rest of his family killed for their tears and feathers that the kidnappers collected to sell. Tony had escaped with Yinsen’s help, but when the escape had Tony near death in the mountains, Yinsen had traded his heart for Tony’s.

 _Do not waste this gift_ , Yinsen had ordered. _You could be a great king, Anthony Stark._

 _Both of us,_ Tony had pleaded. Yinsen had been his guiding light during the dark moments trapped in the cave. Tony couldn’t traverse the mountains alone. _Both of us, that was the plan_.

 _This is_ my _plan_ , Yinsen had said. _I will go to see my family, and you will live to see yours_.

It had never been done before, according to all the books Tony could find. No one even mentioned that it was even possible, to trade hearts with a phoenix.

Even now, Tony is still figuring out the side effects. He usually ran warm, but it had taken the gauntlets to help Tony focus the fire in his phoenix heart. And phoenixes naturally repelled other magic, so Tony had hoped a low power might help interrupt the spell that dragged Bucky into the trap.

“Saved my life today, so thank you. Glad I didn’t smash both of them,” Bucky says. “Especially… especially as I would’ve deserved being left there…. Since it seems like I’m the one who caused this. You leaving, kidnapped, the stay in Maenhaeten... I’m so sorry.”

“Why,” Tony bites out, then swallows it. The talk of the past had brought all the memories with it, of agonizing over the attack and what happend. Of being kidnapped and wondering every day if someone was coming.

If anyone came, then they never found those that held Tony. Tony had stumbled out of the mountains into a regular patrol that had seemed surprised to see Tony not already in Maenhaten. And then they had taken Tony to Maenhaeten, and Tony hasn’t been back to Brucklin until this trip.

Tony clears his throat and tries again. “Why did you attack him?”

Bucky closes his eyes and turns away. “I don’t know,” he whispers. “... My mind was blank, all empty. I didn’t know what was happening, how to control myself. It was like all I could do was watch.”

Tony nods, though he doesn’t understand. He has a hard time looking at Bucky, not sure what Bucky might see.

“It’s never happened before, and it’s never happened since. If I could tell you, I would. I wish… I wish I knew what happened, why I did it.”

Buttercup comes over and nudges his shoulder, and Tony pats her nose. “We should get going. We’ve lost a lot of daylight,” Tony says.

“Right,” Bucky agrees softly. “...Though I would appreciate a dip in the stream back there.”

Tony agrees quickly.

 

Buttercup carries both of them until they stop to set up camp. When Tony sits at his usual spot against Buttercup, Bucky hesitates.

“I’m still willing to share my extra phoenix-warmth,” Tony says as he pats the dirt beside him.

Bucky curls up in his usual spot, still tense and rubbing his dragon shoulder.

“How did you get the arm?” Tony asks quietly.

Bucky shrugs. “Lost the real one while I was a squire, and my knight knew an experimental magician. Zola. Got me this one,” Bucky explains shortly while he clenches his dragon fist. “Merged right on with magic, this spell here.” Bucky taps the shoulder, where there was an etched in pentagram. “No one can figure it out, to undo it. It’s mine forever. At the time it was great, went right back to training, but then…”

Bucky trails off, and Tony nods. Then Bucky had attacked the king.

And now they were here.

“Tomorrow, you said we might reach the Baron’s lands?” Tony asks.

Bucky coughs. “I… no, not anymore. I’m not bringing you to Baron Pierce anymore,” Bucky admits.

“What?” Tony asks, suddenly wide awake.

“I’ll take you to the castle. Baron Pierce… he’ll find you if he still wants to talk to you. But I don’t think you’d kill Steve. Not if you saved me.”

“The blast before might’ve killed someone,” Tony points out. “I didn’t know it would be that powerful, then,” he babbles without thinking.

“You said someone attacked you, and that’s not like Steve. And you wouldn’t have possibly killed someone without fearing for your life,” Bucky says. “Something smells weird, but you’ll be safer at the castle. If you did kill Steve, then… I guess we’re settled, since you saved my life.”

Tony looks at Bucky, the darkness making it hard to see Bucky’s eyes. “Thank you,” Tony whispers with sincerity. “I… I would like to see my mother again. Still tomorrow, maybe?”

Bucky gives a short nod.

Tony has a hard time looking away, and then an even harder time settling his brain into sleep.

 

Tomorrow dawns cold but clear. Both Tony and Bucky are quiet, and they make good time that Tony sees the spires of the castle - of his childhood home - rising in the distance with the sun still high in the sky.

Tony is more relieved than he expected to see it. Home, or what he hopes will soon become home again.

“I must leave you here,” Bucky says when the outer walls are finally in view. “I’ll wait until you’re inside.”

“Wait, what? You should come with me,” Tony says, blinking in surprise. “You should… you should come up…” Tony trails off as he realizes that no, Bucky should not come up to the castle.

Bucky shakes his head with a small smile as he sees the realization on Tony’s face. “I will wait here until you are inside.”

“Wait longer. I’ll return. You should be rewarded for escorting me here safely,” Tony insists. “I’ll bring you whatever you want. You saved my life.”

“ _You_ saved _mine_ ,” Bucky says. “I only harmed yours. I will return to Baron Pierce and let him know where to find you if he needs you. Perhaps he’s already solved the mystery of Steve’s whereabouts.”

Tony swallows. “I hope he’s alive.”

Bucky nods.

“You won’t wait?” Tony asks, trying not to plead. With the castle looming over them, Tony doesn’t know what to say. Those inside the walls still know Bucky only as the traitor who attacked the king. “I promise to return swiftly. A horse will make your journey easier.”

Tony can’t give Buttercup to Bucky, can’t handle parting with her, but there would be plenty of fine steeds in his father’s stables.

“I’m better on foot,” Bucky says. “This is goodbye, my prince.”

Tony nods, short and sharp. “Goodbye, Barnes. Thank you for your service to your kingdom.”

Bucky offers a quick, weak smile, and then with one final long look, Tony nudges Buttercup into a trot towards the castle gates.

When Tony turns back to look, Bucky stands at the tree line. But when Tony reaches the castle walls, Bucky is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends Part One! Part Two will be added on here, so feel free to subscribe <3


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